I come up behind her and crouch down just a little so that I can get the head in between her smooth, light brown cheeks. I fit the head into her tight little hole and start to work it slow, taking my time, opening her up. Then I’m in, just with the head, and she lets out a luscious little gasp. I slide it home. She pushes back against me, putting her head back and turning her face toward me. She reaches back with one hand and touches my cheek, stroking it oh so lightly with her fingertips. Her tongue slips in and out of my mouth as I fuck her from behind. The night air is cool on my face and belly. Connie lets out a little whimper as I do her. For Christ’s sake, I can’t believe how bad I want to reach down and grab it with my hand. I guess it comes from the time in the joint, you know; it wasn’t like this before. It probably wouldn’t do much for her, but I just want to touch it, caress it, taste every bit of her. With her free hand she grips the windowsill, holding herself steady. She whispers my name as I let myself go inside her. Then I whisper hers.

Connie takes a moment to go use the can. She comes out naked except for a frilly pink robe with pink fur down each side, framing her luscious tits. She takes me in her arms, the robe bunched between her legs. We tumble down onto the bed, laughing like old times, rolling about. Connie curls up with me, one hand spread across her crotch in the dark. I light up a Pall Mall and Connie takes a drag or two. In the flare of the cherry, I can see her eyes forming big moist pools. A single tear drizzles out of one eye. If she’s anything like she used to be, Connie spends about half her life weeping.

“The money,” I tell her. “I’ve got to get out of town.”

There’s a key in the lock. I’m off the bed in a second, the rubber leaking come and dripping Connie’s spit. I get my pants buckled and get down in a crouch, hiding in the dark, the .38 in my hand. I pull back the hammer and Connie looks at me, horrified. She sits up, clutching a pillow in her lap. The door opens.